


The Last Cherry Blossom

by Jota_Te



Series: Cherryverse [2]
Category: Final Fantasy IX
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Gen, Political Intrigue
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2020-02-16 14:07:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 18,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18693055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jota_Te/pseuds/Jota_Te
Summary: Twenty years after Kuja's downfall, a now middle-aged Freya Crescent is driven into exile by her homeland's new ruler. Lost, broken, but not defeated, the once proud dragoon sets out to unravel a conspiracy that threatens to plunge the Mist Continent into war once again. WIP.





	1. Prologue

**The Last Cherry Blossom**

* * *

_In the end, the world didn't change at all._

_Twenty years have passed since the day I thought that we Gaians had finally managed to set our differences aside, and put war and strife behind us. We allied against a threat so dire that the existence of life itself was at stake, and we won. How could we possibly hurt each other again after such a feat?_

_I was wrong._

_When I was young, I used to think war was about honorable fighters meeting on the battlefield to protect what they held dear. Then, after we Burmecians were almost wiped out entirely, my perspective on it shifted completely. It wasn't about honor, love, kingdoms or causes. It was about the lust for power of a select few._

_We've learned nothing._

_After so much destruction, so much bloodshed, we tried to rebuild our lives despite the smoking pile of rubble and corpses that our homeland had become._

_So much death._

_With the help of Lindblum and Alexandria, Burmecia rose shakily to her feet once again. In the meanwhile, they called me a hero. Savior of the world. The very incarnation of everything a Burmecian should be. A symbol of hope. They did it partially out of gratitude, but mostly to give people the strength they needed to carry on after all that happened. Life became more complicated as a result of my new status as a cultural icon, but if it allowed me to keep serving my nation, I was ready to bear the burden with a smile on my face._

_To serve my nation..._

_Despite the good will of Queen Garnet and Regent Cid, the situation we faced not only as a civilization but as a species was desperate. There were so few survivors of Queen Brahne's genocidal campaign against our people that extinction became a very real possibility. It was only a matter of time before we found ourselves cornered on the edge of the abyss, and it was that what ultimately set in motion the chain of events that lead to this very moment..._


	2. Scorched Hands

_March 24th, 1820, Kingdom of Alexandria._

* * *

"W _hat..? Where..?_ "

She felt the world spinning around her.

"Aunt Freya? Aunt Freya! Are you awake?"

Her mind ground to a halt.

_"Huh..? Little Tot? What... are you doing here?"_

"Mom! Dad! Aunt Freya is awake!"

She could hear a child's voice echoing across the hallway as he ran away to find his parents.

_"Am I dreaming?"_  the dragoon wondered. She slowly sat up to give the room she was in a closer look. It was undoubtedly one of the main guest chambers of the royal palace of Alexandria. She used to sleep in one of these whenever she came to visit her old comrades and, she had to admit, was particularly fond of the view they had.

"Hey,  _rat-face_..." greeted her a familiar voice, raspier than it used to be but still as playful and insolent. Freya didn't even turn her head, knowing exactly who had just insulted her.

"Rat-face...", she muttered with a nostalgic smile, "When I get out of this bed, I'm gonna kick your butt, monkey-tail."

Zidane Tribal, king consort of Alexandria stepped into the room with a big, goofy grin on his face. Time had been kind to him, the Burmecian noted, for he had become even more handsome than he was as a teenager. Unexpectedly, maturity suited him really well.

"It's been far too long, Freya. We've missed you a lot around here..." he said, leaving the door half-closed.

"I'm sorry..." she replied, offering her old friend a sad smile "Life in Burmecia has been... quite  _rough_  lately, to put it lightly."

The genome king's expression became unusually somber, and the dragoon knew exactly where was the conversation inevitably headed towards.

"Quite rough, you say..? Wanna talk about it?"

"No... not really"

She knew she was lying, but she didn't know how to tell Zidane that his old friend, Puck, had recently been...

"Freya, I want to help, but I can't if you don't tell me what's going on..." the genome said.

After way too many years of holding back the tears, the battle-hardened dragoon finally snapped and started crying silently, hiding her shame with her long, silver hair. Zidane felt a lump in his throat. He hadn't seen her like this since the day she found out that her lost love did not remember her anymore.

"Dad... why is aunt Freya crying?" little Tot asked, shyly peeking into the room.

"I think she needs a big hug from her favorite nephew." Zidane answered with a tender smile. Freya hiccuped and chuckled, wiping her eyes with her wrist.

"Come here, little one..." she said, extending her arms. The young boy immediately glomped her and the three of them had a good laugh.

"Tot, Aunt Freya and I need to discuss a couple things. _Adult things_. You know, the boring ones? So, would you kindly go play outside so we can talk for a moment?" the genome said, gently patting his son on the shoulder.

"Will auntie be alright?" the kid asked, genuinely concerned. The Burmecian kissed him softly on the forehead and helped him back to the ground.

"Don't worry about me, Tot... I'm an invincible dragon knight, remember?" Freya said, winking at him, "Now go, have fun, it's a beautiful day out there."

With a radiant smile, he waved her goodbye and ran away, happy to have helped.

"I never imagined that a lecherous knucklehead like you could be such a good father." Freya said, teasingly.

"Let's just say that I have a big soft spot for that little guy. Kind of reminds me of..."

"... I know." the dragoon said, "I didn't want to bring that up, but his demeanor is oddly reminiscent of Vivi's..."

Both friends stayed silent for a while, not knowing what to say.

"Please, tell me I didn't kill anyone innocent..." Freya said, closing her eyes.

Zidane threw the Burmecian a worried look. She was gripping the bed sheets as if bracing for impact.

"Truth is... we don't know yet. Collateral damage was...  _big_. We paid for the material losses, obviously, but... people got caught in the crossfire, Freya," the genome answered.

"How many..?" Freya's broken voice made Zidane flinch, but he decided that it was best to be honest.

"Three. Their wounds are being tended to by our best white mages. They said most of them will recover quickly, but there's this little girl..."

"No... please...  _not a child_..." the dragoon grabbed her head in desperation. "Where is she? I must go see if there is something I can do to help!"

"You will stay here for a while," the king stated, leaving her no room for argument. "You went into Trance for the first time in decades, Freya. Your body won't be able to handle the walk to the hospital."

"But... I need to know..."

"No. Whatever happens,  _we'll_  tell you. I really hate to say this, but you killed six people and wounded another three in Alexandrian territory in broad daylight. I understand why you did it and rest assured Garnet and I will protect you, but we need you to stay put until things cool down a bit, okay?" Zidane replied in a dead serious tone.

Freya nodded silently, then she lowered her head and looked at her hands: part of their fur had been burned away by the monstrous energy release.

" _Guess I'm not dreaming after all..._ " she thought.

* * *

_**Author's note:** _

_Hi and welcome back to Gaia, dear reader!_

_The Prologue has been revised by Myshu. I'd like to use this space to properly thank her for all her support =)_

_Have fun!_


	3. A House Divided

If there was one thing Freya used to treasure in her youth was silence. It was for her a big part of the charm of being a lone wanderer. She was particularly fond of the almost mystical peace of mind that hitting the open roads gave her. Maybe all those beautiful memories were what made her own personal hell so ironic.

Sitting at an old wooden table, two former lovers shared a frugal meal. Long ago had their flame fizzled out, and all that was left was a dreadful, agonizing silence that only the rain hitting the windows dared interrupt.

A quiet, repetitive sound called their attention.

"We should fix that leak..." Sir Fratley said, with the most exhausted tone one could imagine.

Freya reluctantly got up, her chair scraping the floor. Her husband winced in annoyance, but said nothing.

"Where are you going?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"I'm going to town, we've been out of nails for a week," she answered dryly, putting on an old, tattered raincoat.

"You're just gonna drink yourself into oblivion, aren't you?" he shot at her, every word coated in poison.

"What if I am? You couldn't care less..." she retorted, without even turning back to face him.

"Why do you keep running, Freya?  _Why can't you accept the truth?!_ " Fratley had at that point dropped all pretense of civility and started furiously shouting at his wife.

" _The truth, Fratley?!_ " she turned back, eyes ablaze. " _Have you completely_ _forgotten everything we ever stood for?!_   _Have Ulrich's lies burrowed so deep into your heart that you can no longer tell friend from foe?!_ "

"... Ulrich will be king, whether you like it or not," he growled. "He will restore our lost pride and lead us into a new age of prosperity..."

"He will drive us into servitude,  _you_   _stubborn, ignorant_ _fool!_ " Freya retorted, raising her voice, "Can't you see he's a pawn of Treno's nobility?  _Where do you think his funds keep coming from?!_ "

"At least he's doing something about the state of the ruin we call home!" Fratley replied, folding his arms. "I've had enough of Puck's pathetic dependence on Alexandrian charity. Queen Garnet doesn't give a  _damn_  about us! She's only feigning generosity to keep us starved and under control!"

Freya crossed the room in three strides and stopped inches from her husband's face with the most furious expression he had ever seen.

"Speak ill of Garnet in front of me again and I will pummel you into the ground..." she hissed, fists balled up and ready to deliver on her threat. Fratley gasped and then glared at her, deeply hurt: he couldn't believe what he had just heard.

_"Go to hell, Crescent..."_  he bitterly answered.

"I'm already there..." she shot back and turned to leave.

"Hope you choke on your godsdamn ale,  _you traitorous bitch!_ " he finally exploded, two decades of hunger and humiliation fueling his blind rage. He immediately covered his mouth with his hands, terrified of his own outburst.

" _Darling_..?" He mumbled, staring into his wife's eyes. Distant lightning illuminated her devastated expression for a second and Fratley realized that they had just stepped past the point of no return.

_"Gods... what have I done..?!"_  he croaked, "Freya! Freya, please! I'm so..!"

Freya's lower lip started trembling as she slammed the door behind her. The cold rain hit her like a hammer as she walked down the dark streets of Burmecia.

* * *

Three soft knocks on the door brought Freya back to reality. She realized that she had been absentmindedly fidgeting with her worn-out wedding bangle while she was lost in her memories.

"Freya, darling, are you awake?" a familiar voice asked from the hallway.

"Garnet? Is that you?" the bedridden Burmecian answered, taken by surprise.

"Yes! May I come in?"

"Please, do!"

The queen of Alexandria cautiously entered the room. Freya's eyes widened when she realized that her old friend had brought her food and water in a silver tray.

"I-I don't mean to be ungrateful, Garnet, but... won't there be any problems if anyone sees you doing this?" the dragon knight asked.

"I don't care at all," the summoner answered. Freya smiled, realizing that good old Dagger was still in there.

"Zidane told me... about the consequences of my actions," the Burmecian said as the summoner set the tray down on a small side table, "What I did is unforgivable... I don't deserve your hospitality."

Garnet suddenly stopped what she was doing.

"... I'm going to get really angry if you don't stop talking nonsense, Freya." she said with an increasingly broken voice.

"Garnet... I..."

"They should have helped you..." the queen stated, her eyes starting to well up. " _How could they stand idly by, watching them hurt you?!_   _You! Whom they all owe their lives to!_  People make me sick lately..."

"... There were too many of them, and they were well armed. Intervening would have been suicidal." the dragoon rationalized.

"That never prevented us from doing the right thing, didn't it?" Garnet said, sitting beside her old friend, "Someone should have done something.  _Anything_. I'm deeply ashamed about what happened..."

"Why? It wasn't your fault. I shouldn't have been there in the first place," Freya replied, her voice tinged with regret, "Stopping at that tavern instead of coming here immediately was a grave mistake."

"That's where you're wrong," the summoner replied, disappointed in herself. "Alexandria has always prided itself on being a place where women can come and go freely. It's my responsibility as a queen to ensure that."

" _Oh... so that's what Zidane meant when he said that he understood what happened..._ " Freya thought. "Garnet, um... they didn't attack me out of...  _misogyny,_ " she stammered, mustering the courage to tell her old friend that she had become an exile and a fugitive.

"What do you mean?"

"They tried to murder me because they think I'm a traitor... both to my kingdom and to my entire race." the Burmecian said, letting out a disheartened sigh.

"Huh..? How could they possibly believe that?!" Garnet asked, perplexed.

"... Prince Puck is dead, Garnet... and I tried, and failed, to kill the man who orchestrated his demise," Freya explained, lowering her eyes in shame. "... I'm sorry"

The summoner gasped and covered her mouth in horror. She stared at her friend in utter shock for a moment, unable to form a coherent thought.

"... Who did it?" she finally asked, trembling with rage.

"Chancellor Ulrich Fritjofsson," Freya replied, clenching her fists at the mere mention of his name. "... He will soon be appointed as Regent of Burmecia."

Garnet stood up without saying a word.

"... You are safe now. We will make sure of that," the sovereign declared after a brief moment of contemplation. She then turned around, and smiled gently at her old friend, "I can't compensate you enough for the horrors you have suffered, but you have my word: I'll do everything in my power to help you from now on."

"Thank you, Garnet... no words can express my gratitude." the Burmecian said, respectfully nodding her head.

"You should try to eat a little and rest yourself." the queen suggested, walking towards the door. "I'll come by later to check on you, okay?"

Having said that, she left the room, leaving Freya alone with her thoughts again.


	4. Sole Survivor

"You're kidding. Please, tell me that you're kidding, Dag..."

Garnet lowered her eyes in response. Zidane took a deep breath, trying not to lose control.

"He killed Puck... he almost did Freya in too... I'll destroy that piece of..!"

A violent surge of magic started crackling and arcing around him as his voice got more and more distorted. Garnet immediately took a step back when the phenomenon started intensely illuminating the royal chamber.

"Zid... you're manifesting the aura!"

"I... I'm sorry, honey... just... give me a second..." the genome said, closing his eyes to focus on controlling himself. After a short inner struggle, he managed to rein in his power.

"Are you okay, darling?" the queen asked, carefully approaching him again.

"No... I'm not okay knowing that this scumbag chancellor got away with murdering a friend!" Zidane growled, trembling with rage, "I knew the very moment he showed up that he would become a royal pain in the ass. I just didn't imagine he would resort to regicide to usurp the throne."

"I know, Zid.. I know... but we need to stay calm. Ulrich has not officially announced Puck's death, so it's not yet the time to make our move. If we rush to act we may end up triggering a war..." Garnet answered, tenderly caressing his cheek to help him cool down.

"... You have no idea how powerless I feel right now..." the genome sighed, finally lowering his head in defeat and embracing his wife. Garnet closed her eyes and held him lovingly.

"Me too, darling... and he will pay for his atrocities in due time, but now we must gather all the information we can and be extremely careful," Garnet said, looking her husband in the eyes, "It may be too late for a peaceful resolution, but I want to try. The Burmecian people has already suffered too much at the hands of Alexandria."

Zidane smiled at her as he brushed her hair aside.

"Damn, Dag... you're so beautiful when you care about everyone."

Garnet chuckled.

"What can I say? A certain lovable rogue must have rubbed off on me," she answered, radiant.

"Nah, that's all you. That's why I love you," he answered before warmly kissing her.

Three knocks on the door interrupted the couple mid-kiss.

"Your Majesties, I have urgent news for you!" exclaimed Beatrix from the outside.

"Please, come in!" Garnet ordered, letting go of Zidane.

Without losing a second, the armor-clad legendary paladin of Alexandria entered the room.

"We got him," she said.

* * *

Below the majestic white and gold of the Alexandrian castle, lied its dark dungeon made of cold steel and stone. Zidane and Garnet knew the place far too well, having been subjected to the atrocities that it used to house in the past. Nowadays it was a mostly unused museum relic that reminded them about the dark nature of power every time they visited it.

Beatrix, torch in hand, led both monarchs through the darkness with military cadence. She stopped in front of a heavy wooden door guarded by a soldier.

"Open the door, Stendhal," she ordered. The warden immediately obeyed and the trio entered the cell.

"There you have him. The sole survivor of the alleyway massacre," the general said.

Blindfolded and chained, a badly battered burmecian was lying on the floor. He breathed with difficulty and his white fur was stained in many places with his own blood.

"Tell me you didn't torture him, Beatrix," Garnet said, dryly.

"Not at all, ma'am. I've actually saved his life," Beatrix answered.

"How so?"

"He was heavily wounded by shrapnel. It's a miracle he managed to survive running away like he did."

"How did you find him?" Zidane inquired.

"The blood trail he left behind made him easy to track. His inhuman jumping prowess only delayed the inevitable."

"Jumping prowess? You mean this guy is a dragoon?" the king asked, bewildered.

"Next to warriors like Crescent he's more like a whelp," the general scornfully said, looking at the would-be assassin. "But yes, he's undoubtedly a dragon magic user."

"Has he said anything useful?" Garnet intervened.

"No. He's been unconscious since we captured him, but worry not, ma'am: he will sing like a canary."

"Remember: no torture. We don't want to give the burmecian people any more reasons to abhor us. Besides, his status as a professional soldier will come in handy as leverage against his master."

"A wise decision, indeed," the swordswoman commented "I'll keep you informed about the results of the interrogation."

"Thanks, Beatrix. You have done an excellent job," the queen answered, giving the burmecian a last look before leaving the dungeon.


	5. The Dragonslayer (Part One)

Standing in the middle of a barren field, Freya stared indifferently at the incoming wall of destruction that loomed on the horizon.

"My love! My love, where are you?"

Her husband was calling for her in the distance, but she didn't answer.

A withered wild flower, jutting out of small dust mound, drew her attention. It danced madly, agitated by the furious gusts of wind that heralded the tempest. She kneeled and looked at it with glazed eyes.

"You and I are the same, aren't we?" she whispered to it and then deliriously chuckled at the comparison.

"Freya..?  _What are you doing down there?!_ " Fratley yelled when he spotted his wife kneeling on the dead crop field with the massive sandstorm rapidly advancing towards her. He covered his snout with a piece of cloth and rushed downhill at full speed, "Come back, darling! It's too dangerous!"

Freya feebly tried to stand up, but lost her footing and fell backwards, wildly cackling the whole time.

" _Father Berlioz, please give me the strength to reach her in time!_ " Fratley prayed and then he started using his dragon magic to move even faster. He felt like his skin was being ripped apart by the burning winds but he endured it and finally managed to reunite with his wife.

" _Isn't it hilarious, darling?!_ " Freya yelled, her voice almost drowned by the deafening roar of the storm.

" _What are you talking about?!_ " Fratley cried as he lifted her and started carrying her back to their house, "Cover your face, my love! This is gonna get rough!"

" _Our lives, our kingdom, they are nothing but a big, twisted joke!_ " she raved, gripping her husband's vest, " _Why aren't you laughing, my love? Don't you find it funny..?_ "

Fratley looked at her, disturbed by her delirious rant, then he glanced over his shoulder just in time to see the rolling cloud hit him in the back like a sledgehammer. He screamed in terror as the storm sent them both tumbling downhill. Despite the fall bloodying her, Freya was beyond feeling anything by that point, the world slowly fading away around her. The last thing she saw before darkness engulfed her was her husband desperately crawling towards her.

"I... love you, Fratley..." she muttered before passing out.

* * *

Freya opened her eyes, not knowing where she was. The image of Sir Fratley reaching for her was burned in her mind and for a moment she thought she was in Burmecia and that he would come to check on her at any moment. Instead, the clear sky of Alexandria welcomed her back to the royal palace. She basked in the morning light, oddly proud of having slept the whole night through for the first time in months.

Her stomach growled. Amused by the weird sound it made, she decided to look around for any leftovers of what Garnet had brought her to eat. Disappointingly, someone had taken away the silver plate while she was sleeping.

" _I wonder..._ " the burmecian thought, wanting to see if she could stand up again. Very carefully, she put her feet on the ground. Her calves immediately started trembling when she attempted to support her weight on them, but she ignored the pain and kept trying until she finally managed to stay upright.

" _Well done_ _, legs!_ " she thought, proudly smiling, " _Now let's try walking a little..."_

She slowly took a step, then another, then another. She relished her restored ability to move on her own. She felt invincible, Gaia's ultimate survivor!

Knock, knock.

" _Bad timing, Freya..._ ", she thought, freezing up, "Please, wait a second!"

"Is everything alright?" Zidane asked, his voice muffled by the wooden door.

" _Oh gods_ _, not him!_ " Freya thought. The idea of being seen hobbling around in her undergarments by  _Zidane_  filled her with dread: the stars would die out before he stopped making fun of her for that.

"Yes! Just give me a moment!"

"Okay, take your time!" the genome answered. He waited patiently in the hallway until he heard a loud thump followed by a comically high-pitched yelp and a curse in an unknown burmecian dialect and decided he had to find out what was going on inside.

"Freya, are you..? Oh!  _OH!_  I'm sorry!  _I'm so sorry!_ " the king apologized, immediately looking away.

" _Gosh_   _darn it_ , monkey-tail! I just told you to give me a second!" the burmecian angrily shouted as she pathetically dragged herself towards the bed.

"Did you just say  _gosh darn it_?" Zidane asked, immediately bursting into laughter.

"Oh, shut up you...  _you_..!" the dragoon shot back. She then realized that she couldn't get up on her own. " _Ugh, wonderful..._ " she thought.

"Seriously now, do you need a hand?" The genome asked her, still facing the hallway.

"... yes, please," she sighed.

The king approached the downed burmecian and gently helped her stand up.

"There you are, good as new!" he said with a grin. The dragoon stared at the genome for a while as if expecting something. "What? Do I have something on my face?" Zidane inquired.

"That's it? No crude remarks? No childish jests?" she asked him, incredulous.

"Nope. People grow up, you know?" the king answered, amused by her reaction.

"I know, I... just have a hard time believing how much you've changed..." she answered, warmly smiling at him.

"Pfft... flatterer"

"You're one to talk."

"I was going to ask you what you wanted for breakfast, but now that you're up you can join us if you feel like it. We're having tea in the garden!"

" _Oh_ , that would be  _lo_..." Freya enthusiastically answered before realizing something, "Hold on a second... you, Zidane Tribal, are having  _tea_.  _In the garden_."

"When you live among royalty you either adapt to this kind of stuff or you get kicked out," he replied as he fetched the crutch he had commissioned for her from the corridor, "Now get dressed and come before I leave your furry ass to starve for mocking me."

"... I can't believe I got my hopes up about your newfound maturity..." she retorted with a frown, "Alright, I'll go, just don't walk too fast, please."

* * *

The sheer size and beauty of the royal palace of Alexandria never ceased to amaze Freya, but she had a definite favorite place in the castle: the garden. Sporting a wide variety of native and foreign flora carefully arranged in thematic sections, it was a masterpiece, famed across the entire globe. It was Zidane who had had the idea of making a big part of it public, to let families of any status enjoy their free time in Alexandria's little slice of paradise. For things like this, he was loathed by the conservative nobility, deeply loved by the common people and grudgingly respected by those who, despite disagreeing with his ideas, saw how effective he was at maintaining social peace.

After a short trip, the genome king and the dragoon reached the kiosk where Garnet and Tot awaited while enjoying tea and biscuits. When the queen saw Freya limping towards the structure she immediately rose to her feet to go help her, but was stopped by Steiner, who was performing guard duty and decided to do it himself.

"Lady Freya!" he boomed as he approached her, "Please, let me assist you as it seems that our king has forgotten everything about chivalry or manners in general."

"Hey! I gave her a crutch!" Zidane shot back. Freya chuckled.

"Oh, hello Steiner! Don't worry about me, I can walk just fiiiiiiiii-!"

Before she could finish her sentence, the massive knight effortlessly picked her up like a child and started carrying her back to the kiosk, his armor loudly clanging with every step. Zidane laughed his head off at the sight and Garnet facepalmed, trying not to do the same.

"Steiner, please put her down..." the queen ordered in an exasperated tone when the duo arrived at the structure.

"As you wish, ma'am," he answered and gently put Freya on the ground. The dragoon dusted herself off and bowed to Garnet. "Your Majesty..." she saluted, trying to regain her composure.

"Aunt Freya! You're up!" Tot exclaimed, delighted to see her again.

"Hello there, little one!" she said with a big smile. The kid promptly glomped her with a little too much energy, almost making her fall on her backside.

"Tot! Be gentle with your aunt! She's barely recovered from her injuries!" his mother said, making the boy release her at once, "I'm glad to see you up again, Freya. Please, sit down and help yourself to whatever you want."

"Thank you, Garnet," the burmecian politely answered as she sat on a chair and started pouring tea on a porcelain cup.

"Mind if I join in?" Zidane asked, taking his place alongside Garnet and pecking her on the lips. This prompted both Steiner and Tot to cover their eyes in embarrassment. Freya lowered her eyes with a melancholic half-smile.

"We have excellent news for you!" Garnet exclaimed, clapping her hands in excitement, "We have been informed this morning that everyone in the hospital is officially out of danger and will fully recover soon! Isn't that wonderful?"

"Is that true? What about the badly hurt child?  _Will she recover too?_ " the burmecian blurted out, almost spilling her tea.

"Absolutely. Here, have a look at this," Garnet answered, extending her a handwritten report signed by the last person Freya expected.

"Eiko, huh?" the dragoon commented, this time with a relieved smile, "That girl can truly work miracles."

"When she caught wind of what happened, she traveled all the way from Lindblum to personally take the case in her hands," Zidane added, munching on a biscuit. "Sadly, she had urgent stuff to attend to. Would have liked having her over for dinner at least. She sends you her regards, by the way."

"She never changes, eh?" the dragoon commented. "I wish I had something on me to gift her..."

Garnet suddenly looked at Zidane and nodded her head. The genome nodded back and got up.

"Hey Tot! Wanna play tag? I'm up for a rematch!" he said.

"Yay! Let's go, dad!" the boy joyfully exclaimed as he started chasing after his father "See you later mom! Auntie!"

"Be careful, sweetie!" Garnet shouted and then looked at Steiner. The Pluto Knight approached the table.

"Lady Freya, we have captured a survivor," he said.

"Excuse me?" the burmecian said, slowly putting her teacup on the table.

"One of the burmecians that attacked you. He tried to run away but Beatrix's unit got him," the burly warrior explained. "He's still unconscious, but when he wakes up, Bea will personally interrogate him."

Freya stared at Steiner blankly, horrified by the idea of being in a cell alone with the merciless general.

"He is a dragoon, Freya," Garnet added, her expression becoming a deep frown, "Under any other circumstances his attempt on your life would have constituted grounds for a declaration of war, but, as I have no interest in an armed conflict with Burmecia, I need you to help me understand Ulrich's goals in order to peacefully stop him."

Freya sighed. She silently took the porcelain teapot and began pouring what was left of its contents in her teacup. Garnet and Steiner held their breath as she stared into the dark beverage.

"My first memory of him is a also a very painful one," she said as she added a spoonful of honey to her drink, "We met five years ago, during the Great Burmecian Drought. The disappearance of the eternal rain that ensued Kuja's defeat had caused a rapid desertification of the kingdom. It was a matter of time before a particularly windy season turned all that desiccated soil into an unending chain of sandstorms."

"I remember that. So many lives were lost during those years..." Garnet sighed.

"I never told you, but... the drought almost claimed mine too," Freya said, pausing to look the queen of Alexandria in the eyes.

"What..?" Garnet muttered, unable to process what her friend had just revealed to her. Steiner paled, "Lady Freya..." he mumbled.

"The extreme shortage of water led to the appearance of a highly contagious disease..." the dragoon continued explaining.

"The Blight..." Garnet remembered, her eyes wide open, "You got infected too..?"

"Yes..."

"Why didn't you tell me?! I would have helped!" the queen exclaimed, confused and hurt.

"I was... too tired, Garnet..." Freya answered in a broken voice. "I'm sorry..."

Garnet took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. Her eyes started welling up, so she wiped them with the back of her hand.

"How did you survive without proper treatment?" she asked.

"I did get treated... by none other than Ulrich himself."


	6. The Dragonslayer (Part Two)

Fratley opened his eyes. He was covered in sand and bruises, but he was still alive. The storm had passed, but he knew full well that it could come back in short order, so they didn't have time to lose.

"Freya? My love, can you hear me?"

He had been shielding her with his body, so he propped himself up to check on her. " _Ack..!_ " he grunted, realizing that his right leg was broken. Freya lied still beneath him, her facial fur caked with blood and dirt.

"Oh, no..." he muttered as he lifted her hair to reveal a large gash on her forehead. He immediately put an ear close to her snout and heaved a sigh of relief when he heard her faint but steady respiration. He then started praying, focusing all the power he had left into his fist.

" _Mother Reis, hear my plea in this time of need..._ " he whispered, a greenish glow radiating from his hand.

When he felt the spell was ready, he released it, wreathing them both in a healing magical aura. He then collapsed to the ground, drained by the conjuration.

The scorching sun of the desert shined, merciless, above them. After catching his breath, the knight checked Freya's wound. The cut had stopped bleeding and looked much better, but the ensuing infection would be deadly if she didn't get it treated soon. He tried to stand up, but the spell had only partially healed his leg. He fell sideways, screaming in pain.

" _Why?! Why is this happening?!_ " he raged, pounding the sand with his fist, " _Help!_   _Can anyone hear me?!_ _HEEELP!_ "

But nobody answered.

Never before had Sir Fratley felt  _this_  powerless. Not even witnessing the obliteration of Cleyra could compare to seeing the love of his life lying motionless next to him, like a broken doll buried in the sand.

He suddenly had an idea.

The dragoon quickly looked around. " _Aha!_ " he thought when he spotted a nearby downed branch. He crawled towards it as fast as he could and grabbed it with his right hand. " _Father Berlioz, give me strength!_ " he prayed. His left hand started glowing purple and he struck the branch twice with its edge, cleanly slicing it into two serviceable sticks. He quickly splinted his damaged limb and crawled back to where his wife was.

"We will get out of this, my love... I promise!" the dragoon whispered in her ear. He then tried screaming for help, but once again only the wind answered. " _We will have to take our chances then..._ ".

Sir Fratley closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He used his desire to save Freya as an anchor point to gather every last drop of his remaining spiritual force. A mystical surge enveloped him in blinding purple light, filling him with raw power. " _Father Berlioz, give me strength!_ " the knight roared as he rose to his feet, using his momentum to also lift Freya up. He screamed in agony, the invigorating spell having done nothing to anesthetize his mangled leg, but he knew he had to jump before it wore off and he fell unconscious. He took off, the enormity of his leap reflecting his many decades of experience as a dragoon. His target was a nearby route that merchants frequently used to enter Burmecia from the south.

_"I see someone! We are saved!"_  the knight enthusiastically exclaimed when he spotted a lone traveler on a chocobo near his intended landing site. The couple started plummeting due to Fratley struggling to concentrate because of the pain, but seconds before impact he managed to use his magic to break their fall, allowing them to land safely on the earthen road.

"Please...  _help us_..." Fratley begged the unknown man, almost incapacitated by the immense strain that his previous feat had put on his body. The surprised traveler immediately got off his ride and approached them. He was a Burmecian too, his clawed feet giving away his origin despite his figure being obscured by a mixture of leather armor and desert clothing.

"You are a dragoon, aren't you?" the man asked, kneeling to assess both Burmecians' wounds. "What happened to you?"

"My name is Fratley, good sir. She is my wife, Freya. The sandstorm caught us away from home and we fell downhill. She bumped her head and I think my right leg is broken."

"Fratley and Freya?  _The heroes of Burmecia..?_ " the man mumbled, astounded, as he checked Freya's respiration. "Um, sorry... I kind of got carried away. Help me lower her to the ground. Slowly. I'll stabilize her head to prevent further damage to the spine."

"Are you some sort of doctor, young man?" Fratley asked as he put his wife on the floor with the traveler's help.

"You could say so, brave knight. Now hold her like this."

"Like this?"

"Yes, Excellent," the man answered, going back to his chocobo to grab a big leather bag.

"May I ask your name, good sir?" the dragoon inquired, his voice filled with gratefulness.

"Oh! Yes... where are my manners? The name's Ulrich, it's an honor to meet you."

* * *

"How strange... If I were to judge him solely by your story, I would be inclined to think that he's a good person..." Garnet said, rubbing her chin.

"His medical work during the Blight was admirable, indeed. A great amount of people, myself included, would be dead if not for him," Freya answered, taking a sip of her tea. It was cold, but she didn't mind. Zidane and Tot had stopped running around and were now lying on the grass, basking in the sun like two oversized cats.

"Yes... I remember when he established his network of treatment centers. He also used them to shamelessly spread anti-Alexandrian propaganda," the queen reminisced.

"Exactly. He exploited his newfound popularity to inject his ideas into the Burmecian society," Freya added.

"What I don't understand is how didn't we learn about your illness... why didn't Puck or Fratley write us about your condition? Why didn't Ulrich make it public?"

The dragoon lowered her eyes in shame.

"I... personally requested Ulrich and Fratley to keep it secret, and because I remained at home during the entirety of my recovery, not even Puck himself knew about it."

"I'm surprised that a power-hungry snake like him didn't use the story to boost his popularity even further," Garnet commented.

"If you knew him personally, you wouldn't be," the Burmecian replied.

"What are you talking about?"

"Unlike Kuja and most corrupt nobles that we have dealt with, Ulrich honestly believes himself to be a hero. He thinks that offing Puck was an enactment of  _justice_  and is stubbornly convinced that he will lead the kingdom towards greatness."

_"Justice..?_  Justice for what?"

"As you know, he claims that Burmecia's alliance with Alexandria is an insult to those who died during the Mist War. He saw Puck as a traitor who no longer deserved to rule and most of the court and the common folk agreed with him. In fact, if he has managed to get away with regicide until now, it's mostly because almost no one cared if Puck lived or died as long as Ulrich became regent."

"Oh, dear..." the queen sighed, covering her eyes in frustration, "I can't imagine how lonely you two must have felt in such a context."

Freya stared for a while at her old wedding bangle, her eyes glinting with a mixture of fury and sorrow.

"Do you know what hurt me the most?"

Garnet glanced at Freya's bracelet, realizing where she was going with her question.

"What hurt me the most is that when  _he_  had to make a choice, he failed to choose me  _once again,_ " the dragoon growled, clenching her teeth so hard that Garnet thought they would crack.

The queen and the Pluto knight looked at their friend in stunned silence, not knowing how to react.

"Are we talking about..?" Steiner asked, but was promptly cut off by Garnet sternly glancing at him.

"Yes... Fratley. Blinded by Ulrich's grandiloquent promises, he abandoned Puck's side and went back into active service as a dragoon under the chancellor's orders," the Burmecian confirmed.

"... What? But he was so loyal to his kingdom!" Steiner exclaimed, astounded.

"That's exactly what made him leave us. He grew so attached to Ulrich after he saved my life that he couldn't see through his lies," Freya said, nostalgically smiling. "It would be endearing if it wasn't so sad, but I remember Fratley coming home every night and talking over and over about him and everything he had achieved. He was like a child, gushing about his hero..."

"And he had no reason to distrust him, as his first memory of Alexandria is the devastation of his homeland at my mother's hands..." Garnet added, beginning to see the big picture.

"I know you, and I am  _very_  aware of all you've done to help Burmecia during these years, but the Mist War and the tragedies that ensued were just too much for my people. I must confess that I might have found myself on Ulrich's side if I wasn't so fond of you all..." the dragoon said, staring at her own reflection in the half-empty teacup.

"Oh, sweetie..." Garnet sighed, holding Freya's hand. "You can't imagine how much I despise myself for not being able to undo all the suffering that mother caused..."

"No Garnet, you put an end to the war and gave us all another chance at life. For that, and everything else, you will forever have my gratitude and my affection," the Burmecian replied, gently squeezing her friend's hand and smiling warmly at her. "Don't blame yourself for circumstances that escape your control."

"I still can't understand why a righteous knight like Fratley would side with a vile murderer instead of you, Lady Freya..." Steiner said angrily.

"Well... about that..." the dragoon said. "He  _did_  side with that monster against us... but when Ulrich finally tried to kill me for discovering that he had poisoned poor Puck, Fratley distracted him long enough to allow me to escape the kingdom with that information. He should have reached Lindblum by now, but I'm still worried about him..."

" _Poison,_ you said? That disgraceful coward! I want to..!" Steiner exploded, furiously gesticulating.

"He...  _distracted_   _him_?" Garnet asked, instead, "Please don't tell me that he can also best  _you_ _both_ in a fight..."

"No. He's skilled, but he's too inexperienced to beat any of us in direct combat. He relies instead on a deadly ace up his sleeve that I forced him to reveal during our duel... and if we are to vanquish him, we must find a way around it first," Freya stated.

Garnet stared at the dragoon in disbelief.

"... Just what kind of power does this madman wield, Freya?"

"He bears the Mark of the Dragonslayer, and he has used venoms and trickery to feed it more than  _a hundred dragon souls._ "

"A Dragon's Crest..! But didn't you have one too, Lady Freya?" Steiner gasped, recoiling in shock.

"Yes, but mine is  _significantly_  weaker. After discovering the necromantic nature of the mark, I decided not to feed it anymore. Not even  _dragons_ deserve to have their souls devoured."

"Let me get this straight..." Garnet said, rubbing her temples, "the anti-Alexandrian, murderous bigot that usurped our neighboring kingdom's throne has a personal army of over a hundred invulnerable spectral dragons..."

"That... sums it up quite well." Freya replied, biting her lower lip.

The queen stared blankly at the Burmecian for a few seconds.

"... Steiner, could you please ask Quina if we still have some of Blank's  _wedding gift_  left?"

"Uh... are you sure, Your Majesty..?" the Pluto Knight asked.

"Sadly, I'm just kidding. Bring Beatrix, I'm gonna fetch Zidane, we need to discuss this right  _now,_ " the monarch ordered.

"Your Majesty!" an armor-clad man yelled as he ran towards the kiosk.

" _What now?_ " Garnet sighed.

The rotund knight reached the structure and gave the queen the missive he carried.

"Your Majesty, you have urgent mail from Burmecia! It's signed by Chancellor Ulrich!" he blurted out, sweating like a pig.

" _Breireicht! How dare you show up like this in front of the queen?!_ " Steiner boomed. The knight squealed in fear.

"Thanks, Breireicht," the queen said, somewhat calming him down. He then bowed to her and left.

"I swear I'm going to punish him for this..." Steiner mumbled as he drew a short knife and passed it to the monarch.

"Don't be so hard on him, Steiner," Garnet said, cutting open the envelope. She started silently reading the letter while Steiner and Freya gathered around her.

"Um... what does it say?" the Burmecian asked, her voice tinged with anxiety.

"Hmph... looks like the dragon has finally decided to crawl out of its cave," the queen replied.


	7. Cherry Tree Hill

"What do you mean I can't go with you?!"

Everyone in the queen's study silently stared at Freya, startled by her sudden outburst. Beatrix shot her a terrifying one-eyed glare, making the Burmecian's skin crawl.

"You may be a war hero and a dear friend of the royal couple, but such  _insolence_  will not be tolerated again, do you understand, Crescent?" the general coldly warned her.

Freya automatically  _lost it._

"How dare  _you_  of all people talk to me about insolence? Do I need to remind you that this disaster is largely  _your_  fault?" the dragoon hissed, every word coated in poison.

Steiner gasped and Garnet closed her eyes and started rubbing her temples.

" _You..! I..!_ " Beatrix tried to answer, instinctively reaching for her sword's hilt, but, before anyone could react, her blood-soaked past caught up with her and she finally relented, "I'm sorry, Crescent... please... try to understand..."

"Freya, Beatrix, you're both overstepping..." the queen sternly said.

"What we mean, Freya, is that we have no idea how Ulrich will react if he sees you with us during the funeral." Zidane intervened, trying to calm her down, "He might even try to kill you and we can't risk everything going to shit just yet..."

" _Vocabulary!_ " Steiner silently mouthed to the genome while he awkwardly patted his wife's back in a misguided attempt to comfort her.

The Burmecian found herself cornered and sat down again, burying her face in her hands.

"We know that what we're asking you to do is particularly hard, but  _thousands_ of lives are at stake and we can't afford to  _taunt_  someone as violently unstable as Ulrich." Garnet said as gently as she could.

"I understand... it's just..." the dragoon muttered, "I can't bear the thought of that  _thing_ disgracing Puck's memory while I stay here, grounded,  _useless."_

Beatrix didn't dare look at her. Zidane was amazed: it was the first time he had seen her in such a state. He wondered if the general would ever find redemption for her past misdeeds, especially now that Burmecia's wounds had started festering horrendously.

Freya took a deep breath and quickly pulled herself together, something she had become quite adept at since her youth.

"I'm sorry for letting my emotions cloud my judgement, Garnet." the Burmecian said with her usual dignified tone, "Please, let us continue to plan this operation."

* * *

Freya had spent the entire afternoon locked up in her room. It was getting late, the pink and orange hues of twilight having almost completely given way to a soothing dark blue. She was lost in her thoughts, pondering what she could do to help her people in her current situation. Three soft knocks on the door interrupted her meditation.

"Hey, Freya..." Zidane tentatively said from the hallway "... are you in the mood for a little chat?"

The Burmecian sighed.

"Yes... please come in." she answered.

Zidane carefully stepped into the guest chamber. He knew his friend was still bitter about having to stay in Alexandria during Puck's funeral, so he had decided to be as tactful as possible.

"Hi..."

"Hi..."

"How do you feel?"

Freya shrugged, then crossed her arms again.

"Like shit, huh?" Zidane asked. The dragoon nodded her head affirmatively. The genome king lowered his eyes, not knowing what to say.

"You've surely been wondering why have I been keeping so many secrets from you, haven't you?" the Burmecian ventured after a moment of awkward silence.

" _Straight to the point, huh?_ " Zidane thought, "Kinda... yeah..."

Freya sighed again.

"I guess I was tired of constantly burdening you with my problems..." she said, staring at the wall.

"But... why?" the genome asked, his true nature taking the front seat, "Aren't we  _dragon pals_? Rat-face and Monkey-tail?"

"Zidane, I've dragged you into a  _warzone_  and almost got you killed.  _Twice_. And what the heck is a  _d_ _ragon pal_?" she replied, exasperated.

The king chortled.

"Remember that time we went to Popos Heights? You were all  _gung-ho_  about hunting a dragon to prove yourself and stuff."

"Oh, no... please, don't..." Freya started complaining, but Zidane kept talking.

"You should have seen your face when we ended up in that gross ass ditch, drenched in _fucking_   _dragon p..._ "

"Okay, okay, I remember!" she exclaimed, chuckling in spite of herself, "Sorry for that too, by the way..."

"Sorry for  _what_? It was  _awesome_! And we freaking killed like  _three_  of them! Then you got that cool tattoo  _thingy_  that summoned giant dragon ghosts and we even wrecked  _Necron's_ shit with it!" Zidane rambled, having fully reverted to his teenaged self for a moment.

"So? What's your point?" Freya asked him.

"My point is that  _we stuck together_ , and we ended up doing the impossible  _because_  of it!" the genome exclaimed.

Freya smiled and closed her eyes.

"Zidane... as you've told me before, things have changed. We no longer are the adrenaline-addled kids that we used to be back then. You are now a king with an entire kingdom resting on your shoulders... you have far more important things to do than to worry about me."

The genome glared at her, outraged by her remark. Like  _he,_  of all people, would abandon his loved ones because he now had a fancy job!

" _Bullshit!_  You sure you haven't been dating  _Amarant_ or something? Because you're starting to sound like him!" he brusquely retorted, taking the Burmecian by surprise, "Now get up and come with me. I'm gonna show you just how much I still care about my friends!"

* * *

The king and the dragoon walked silently through the moonlit royal garden. Whenever Freya visited the castle, she liked to go outside after dinner to enjoy the subtle symphony of sounds and aromas unique to that place's nights.

"We're almost there" Zidane said, turning left at a bifurcation.

"We have never gone left here..." Freya commented, intrigued by the prospect of discovering a new part of the garden.

"That's because this area has been closed due to a little project that we've been working on." the genome answered.

"Wait... what is that?" the Burmecian said, detecting a long forgotten scent in the air.

"Smells familiar?" Zidane asked her, grinning.

Freya stopped dead on her tracks and took in the faint aroma, trying to remember what did it belong to.

" _It can't be..._ " she muttered, opening her eyes in shock.

"Hell yes it can!" the king gleefully exclaimed.

"But how did you..? When..?"

"Follow me, I'll explain in due time!" Zidane answered.

The duo arrived at a brick wall with an iron gate. The king drew a bunch of keys from his pocket and started fiddling with it, trying to find the one he needed. The scent, despite being almost imperceptible, was driving Freya crazy due to her extremely acute sense of smell. She would have leaped over the wall if her legs weren't still weak.

"Ah, here it is!" he exclaimed, finally managing to unlock the door, "Enjoy yourself!"

The dragoon barged in, her anxiety getting the best of her. She suddenly stood still, unable at first to process what she was witnessing.

"The burmecian cherry blossom tree is a particularly delicate plant." Zidane explained while he closed the door behind him, "You are now seeing what is probably the last reserve of them in Gaia after the Great Drought almost wiped them all out."

Freya's crutch slipped from her grasp and fell to the ground as she stared, moved to tears, at the garden's newest section.

"When I was a child, we had one of these at home..." she said, slowly approaching one of the trees, "this one will bloom shortly. Fifteen days, give or take..."

"You talk like an expert." Zidane replied.

"Mother loved these flowers. She taught me everything I know about them." the Burmecian said, taking a moment to breathe in the scent of her childhood.

"Hmm... we've never talked about your family before..." the genome remarked, rubbing his chin.

"The people of Burmecia is my family now..." she answered, dodging the subject, "I can't imagine how hard it must have been to gather this many trees. They are almost extinct. What made you undertake such an effort?" the Burmecian turned around to face her friend. He greeted her with a warm smile.

"We originally envisioned this as a symbol of everlasting peace between our kingdoms..." the king replied, approaching her, "If I've learned something during my years as an actor, it's that beauty is a powerful instrument of change."

Zidane suddenly found himself in Freya's arms.

"Whoa!" he exclaimed, her unprecedented display of affection having taken him completely off-guard.

"Thank you..." she whispered, releasing him after a few seconds.

"Never thought you to be of the hugging type... but suits you well." the king teased her.

"Not really, but... I couldn't convey in words how much this means to me."

"Heheh... we didn't do it alone, you know? Puck gave us everything we needed to build it. I hope he'll be able to see it filled with happy Burmecian families from wherever he is now." Zidane said, looking skyward with a sad smile.

_Snap!_

Freya's ears suddenly twitched and she turned around, assuming a fighting stance.

"Freya, what's going on? You're freaking me out!" the genome said, alarmed.

"We've got company!" She exclaimed, baring her teeth like an animal.

A hooded, leather armor-clad warrior emerged from the foliage. "Bravo, Crescent! Your senses are as sharp as ever!" he said.

* * *

**_Author's note:_ **

_Hi! Jota Te here! I wanted to thank you all for reading this and for all the support I've received via reviews and PMs. As a die-hard FFIX fan, I'm overjoyed to see that people like my little tribute to its wonderful fictional universe._

_Yes, while heavily modified, the "dragon hunting trip gone south" bit is a reference to Myshu's "Practical Medicine" fic. If you haven't read it yet, go check it out: it's a beautiful, bittersweet tale of love and friendship from which I've drawn a great deal of inspiration for this story. By the way, thank you for all your help and support, Myshu, you're awesome :)_

_I hope you're all doing great and (I've always wanted to say this) stay tuned for more adventures of Rat-Face and Monkey-Tail, heheh!_


	8. The Calling

" _Oh man, we've screwed up big time..._ " Zidane thought when the armored stranger started walking towards them. He was definitely Burmecian, his clawed feet grazing the earth with each step.

The king glanced at the trees. How many foes were still lurking in the shadows? Did they have them in their sights without him even noticing?

"Identify yourself!" Freya barked.

"Don't you recognize my voice,  _C_ _herry_? You break my poor heart!" the intruder retorted.

The dragoon gasped.

" _Sir Wulfweard..?_  Is that  _you_..?" she asked, astounded by his presence in Alexandria.

"Technically I'm no longer a knight, but yes, it's me," the warrior replied, he then put down his hood to reveal his face. He was an old, grizzled Burmecian whose drooping whiskers had grown long enough to resemble a mustache.

"Uh... Freya? Mind telling me who's this guy and why is he calling you  _Cherry_?" Zidane intervened, poking his friend's shoulder to call her attention.

"Oh, sorry for that..." she apologized, "he was my instructor during my years at the academy... and  _Cherry_  is military slang for  _rookie_."

"And let's not forget about your  _lucky raincoat..._ " the old soldier added, tittering under his breath. "You acted,  _and_   _looked like,_  a giant cherry."

Zidane snorted and made a mental note to tease Freya about her nickname later.

"What are you doing here, sir?" the dragoon asked him, lowering her guard. Zidane was unsure about trusting him so quickly, so he kept a hand close to his concealed dagger.

"Oh, please, you can drop the formalities, girl." he answered, drawing a small metal box from one of his pockets. He then approached his old student and handed it to her, "I was secretly tasked a month ago by King Puck to give you this if Ulrich ever managed to usurp the throne."

" _Huh..?!_ " she mumbled, stunned by his words. She then took the golden case and studied it for a moment; it was very light, richly ornate and had the Dragon's Crest engraved on its lid.

"I must warn you..." Wulfweard said, his voice tinged with apprehension, "What lies inside will imperil your very  _soul_  should you decide to open it."

"Wait, wait, wait, hold on!" Zidane intervened, waving the warrior off, "What is all this soul  _mumbo-jumbo_  all of a sudden? Why is that thing so dangerous? Why would Puck give her something like  _that_? I mean, why should we  _trust_  you, Sir  _Wulfweird_  or whatever you're called?"

The old dragoon smirked.

"You are Lord Zidane Tribal, King Consort of Alexandria, Savior of Gaia, am I right?" the Burmecian politely inquired.

"I sure as hell am, so tell me why shouldn't I kick your ass and throw you into jail for infiltrating the castle and giving my friend an artifact of doom!" the genome exclaimed.

" _Zidane..!_ " Freya blurted out, scandalized.

"It's fine, girl, what he says is completely understandable." Wulfweard conceded. He then produced a fist sized artifact from a leather pouch strapped to his belt. It was made of brass and loosely resembled a human heart. Its most striking feature was a small transparent window at its center that revealed a dimly glowing crystal core. "Allow me to give you this as a token of my trustworthiness, Your Majesty."

"What is this..?" Freya inquired, intrigued by the otherworldly device.

"We found it while raiding one of Ulrich's secret warehouses. He has been smuggling some strange containers into our kingdom, hiding them in remote locations to avoid attracting the court's attention." the old Burmecian answered, "There were some kind of... mechanical _monsters_  inside those ' _coffins_ '. We took this from the chest cavity of one of them. We suspect it to be its power source."

Cold sweat started running down Zidane's brow.  _He didn't like the sound of that story at all._

"What do you think those...  _things_  are?" Freya asked, disturbed by her instructor's report.

"I don't know, but we identified four distinct types of these  _machines_ , each bearing a code name and a number on its container's lid: ' _Shiva_ ', ' _Ifrit_ ', ' _Ramuh_ ' and ' _Odin_ '." Wulfweard said, taking a small notebook out of his pouch, "Here, I had my team's specialist speed-draw them for you."

Zidane and Freya started looking at the illustrations. Nightmarish clockwork aberrations glared back at them from the sketchbook's pages, sending shivers down their spines.

"Wait a second... Shiva, Ifrit, Ramuh..." Zidane muttered, "that would be ice, fire and lightning..."

"And look at the retractable blades inside the Odin model's arms..." Freya added, marking them with her finger.

"They must be golems of some sort... unmanned war machines..." Zidane said, staring at a drawing of an  _Ifrit_ 's head, "Where the hell did Ulrich get weapons like these?"

"They are most likely mass-produced. Only two other realms in Gaia are currently capable of such a technological feat." Wulfweard said, "And we've known for a while that most of Ulrich's resources come from Treno, so that pretty much narrows down the answer to one possibility: _the nation that never sleeps_."

_Treno_. That name flooded Zidane's mind with bad memories, both old and recent ones. A terrifying realization dawned on him.

"Fire... ice... lightning!" he exclaimed, prompting both Burmecians to stare blankly at him. "Freya, hand me the heart, please!"

The dragoon obliged. Zidane looked for a moment at the strange device's core. Suddenly, he understood what he was looking at.

" _Son of a bitch!_ " he yelled, repressing an almost irresistible urge to destroy the artifact.

"Zidane, what's wrong?!" Freya asked him, startled by his outburst.

"This is a  _Black Waltz_  core!" the genome told her, so enraged that he could barely talk.

" _What?!_  But  _how?!_  There is no more mist to create them!" Freya exclaimed, terrified by the prospect of a clandestine black mage army hidden right under Burmecia.

"Look at the crystal! It's a human soul!" Zidane screamed. "Those  _motherfuckers_  have been making these things out of  _people!_ "

Freya felt the need to throw up, but managed to contain herself. Sir Wulfweard stared in shock at the abominable contraption, wondering what kind of twisted  _beast_ could be responsible of such an atrocity.

"What in the name of Reis is Ulrich _doing..?_ " the old warrior muttered, "Ruin is the only possible outcome of this blasphemy!"

Zidane was going to suggest immediately returning to the castle when he noticed that something was off about Freya. He called her name but she seemed to have retreated deep into herself. She was trembling, her eyes closed, her fists clenched. Her Dragon's Crest abruptly started shining beneath her shirt and the emblem carved on Puck's reliquary responded with its own purple glow.

" _Oh, no..._ " Sir Wulfweard muttered with a broken voice.

"What?! What's happening?!" Zidane shouted.

"Her wrath has attracted the  _Allfather_ 's attention... he's calling her to replace Lord Puck as his  _S_ _pear_..." he replied, a single tear rolling down his cheek, "Poor girl... it didn't have to be this way..."

The old dragoon then prostrated himself in adoration.

"Are you insane, geezer?!  _Freya!_   _Freya snap out of it!_ " the genome yelled and tried to reach for her. The spectral head of a dragon emerged from her body and rammed him with so much force that he was thrown against a nearby tree, breaking it in half like a twig.

* * *

...

" _Open your eyes, child._ " a deep voice boomed. It seemed to come from everywhere at once.

Freya obeyed. She immediately gasped, terrified by what she was seeing.

" _Wh-what kind of sorcery is this?!_ " the Burmecian stammered. She no longer was in the Royal Garden or in Alexandria. She was in a place that did not even exist anymore: the house where she grew up.


	9. Shattered Mirror

_Warning: graphic violence ahead._

* * *

Freya looked around: the room she was in was undoubtedly her own. She stared, amazed, at her old belongings: they were lovingly arranged as if she had never left.

"What in Reis's name is this place..?" she wondered, taking a book off a wooden shelf. It contained a selection of tales about brave knights rescuing beautiful princesses. She chuckled, remembering how much all those damsels in distress annoyed her as a child: she would stubbornly refuse to be anything else than a valiant dragoon whenever she played with other kids, a trait that tended to intimidate most of them and to exasperate the rest,  _especially_  when the game had nothing to do with slaying giant reptiles.

A silver glint caught her eye. She recoiled in shock when she realized that it was the reflection of light on her grandfather's spear head, a priceless relic that he had given her on his deathbed. It was mounted on the wall as it had been for years before her departure for the military academy.

_"No way_..." she said, approaching the blade to give it a closer look. To her utter astonishment, it seemed to be the real deal. She remembered how much she had wanted it as a kid. Grandpa Kain was so proud about her being  _that_  much into dragoon culture that he had promised to leave her his weapon when she was ready to wield it.

" _I hope you are still proud of me..._ " she whispered, touching the blade with two fingers.

"More than ever!"

" _Huh?!_ " she uttered as she quickly turned around.

"Hello there, Freya! It's been far too long!" her grandfather boisterously greeted her, having seemingly materialized in the middle of the room. He started walking towards her, his arms outstretched and a big grin on his face, "C'mere, give your grandpa a big hug!"

"No... no, you can't be here!" Freya stammered, ripping the spear head out of its mounting and pointing it at the apparition, " _Back off, impostor!_ " she barked, furious and terrified at the same time.

The robust Burmecian blinked twice and burst into laughter, weirding her out. He was a hulking mountain of muscle with a savage, partially braided mane and a large potbelly that he loved to joke about when he was drunk.

"You truly are the spitting image of your mom, kiddo!" Kain exclaimed, "Speaking of which, she's waiting for you outside!"

"Wait,  _what?_  Mother is..? I mean..!" Freya stammered, rubbing her eyes. Kain was  _definitely_  still there when she opened them again. She then tried something more drastic: using her blade, she slightly cut the palm of her hand, drawing a little blood. " _What in the name of..?!_ " she squeaked when the wound magically closed itself, not even leaving a scar behind.

Grandpa Crescent let out another hearty laugh, confusing her even more than she already was.

"You done fooling around, kid? You can't get permanently hurt in  _Fólkvangr_! That's the fun part of this place!" he loudly asserted, prompting his grandchild to stare at him in utter shock.

"What did you just say?" she asked, suddenly feeling lightheaded.

"Exactly what you heard! Welcome to the  _Field of Warriors,_ little one!" he answered, "Now, will you give poor old gramps a hug? You can't imagine how much I've missed you!"

" _The Fólkvangr..? Am I..?_ " she wondered, barely able to form any coherent thought after being told by her  _long dead grandfather_ that she was essentially in the fabled Burmecian _afterlife_. "Is  _any_  of this real? Can I trust you?" she inquired, knowing full well how useless those questions were in her current situation.

"Yes and  _bloody_   _yes!_ " he exclaimed, "If you don't believe me, ask me something only I would know!"

Freya stared at the weapon in her hand. She took a deep breath, unsure about what she was going to do if he answered correctly.

"Alright, then... what did you whisper in my ear the day you gave me this?" the dragoon asked him.

"Hah! That's an easy one!" he chuckled, "I told you that as long as you had the blade you'd never fight alone! I even went as far as to ask Lady Reis to have it appear to you in Memoria after you lost it! That woman is a total sweetheart, if you ask me!"

"Do you mean... that's why it was there?" Freya asked, her eyes welling up, "You've been watching over me all this time?"

"Of course, kiddo! Did you really think I would abandon you over something as trivial as losing a piece of metal?" he said with the warmest smile she had seen in decades. Freya silently approached him with a growing smile. Despite her now being in her early forties, the man still dwarfed her in size and he lost no time to put that difference into use by lifting her in a bone-crushing embrace, loudly laughing the whole time.

"Hah! My noble, powerful Freya! I'm so glad to see you again!" the giant exclaimed, gently putting his grandchild back on the ground, "Your mother awaits, what do you say we go meet her, eh?"

"Sure... lead the way grandpa." she happily answered.

* * *

The Crescents traversed the wooden hallways of the house like they used to do decades ago. Despite all the nostalgic bliss, Freya was quite aware of how unnatural that place was: it seemed to be frozen in time a decade before the Mist War, judging by the presence of objects and furniture that weren't there anymore when she came back home as a teenager. She theorized that  _Fólkvangr_  was a  _state of the soul_  rather than an actual, defined location, reflecting the happiest memories of its inhabitants like a rose-colored mirror; a kind of magic not much unlike the one that had birthed Memoria. That, or she was being lured into an ambush by a plain old illusion that sadistically preyed upon her desire to see her loved ones again... but why bother with  _that_  level of detail if she was already trapped there with no obvious way out?

Kain stopped in front of a double door and turned around to face Freya, grinning widely.

"Even here, momma Frigg still tends to her stupid pink trees all day long. Wanna give her a good scare?" the giant proposed her.

"Is it even possible to surprise mother? I mean, I have good hearing but she is an outright  _monster_..." the dragoon replied, smirking.

"We will never know if we don't try!" Kain answered, winking at her. He then shushed her and slowly opened the gate leading to the garden.

Freya covered her mouth to avoid letting out a loud gasp: her late mother was pruning the same old cherry tree that they used to have. One thing was being told that Frigg was there and another, completely different one, was seeing her, more beautiful than ever under the golden sunlight.

Kain put a finger to his lips and took Freya's hand, they then started silently walking towards the seemingly oblivious woman.

"You know I can hear you, Kain..." Frigg said, turning around, "You're way too noisy, even when you..."

Her scissors fell off her hand, firmly embedding themselves into the ground.

"Freya..?" she asked, her lower lip trembling so much that she could barely talk.

" _Mother!_ " her daughter shouted, closing the distance between them with the fastest sprint she had ever performed.

"Ah!" Frigg yelped as Freya accidentally tackled her to the ground. Both women laughed as they nuzzled each other for the first time in almost thirty years.

"Oh, mother... I'm so glad that you made it to  _Fólkvangr!_ " Freya said, wiping her tears off her eyes, "I've mourned you for so long... praying for your souls to reach the glorious  _Field!_ Oh! Where's father? I want to see him too!"

Frigg's warm smile slowly evaporated.

"Darling, I..." she stammered.

"What's wrong, mother?" Freya inquired, unable at first to understand the sudden change in her mood. Her mother gasped for air once, her eyes turning red, "Mother... where's father?" the dragoon asked, her jaw starting to tremble.

"I... failed him." Frigg muttered, stroking her daughter's hair.

"What do you mean..? Wait, no...  _no_..." Freya exclaimed, the awful truth dawning on her.

"I'm sorry, kid..." Kain said, approaching them. "He passed away before the ritual was complete..."

Fragments of the past started flooding Freya's mind like a tidal wave: her disastrous attempts at learning music from her father, the time he taught her how to dance, his sudden illness and the letter she found when she came back to an empty home as a dragoon.

She sat up in complete silence, numb, absent, lost. A freezing cold grew inside her, turning her blood into ice and her heart into stone. She gave her own Dragon's Crest a scornful, bitter stare. For the first time in her life, she found the idea of eternal life repulsive: rotten to the core was this so-called  _paradise_  that let murderers like her  _in_  and doomed kind souls like her father's to oblivion. She would have embraced annihilation in a heartbeat if that could bring him back, but she knew full well that there was nothing left to save once one disolved into the Crystal.

"I'm sorry..." Frigg muttered, sitting up alongside her daughter.

"It's not your fault, mother... you even gave your own life trying to save his soul." Freya answered without even looking at her. She took a nearby fallen leaf and gazed at it for a moment before crushing it, "It's this awful place's fault... he deserved eternity more than any dragon slayer..."

" _Shhh..!_  Father Berlioz is listening and he sure does  _loathe_  blasphemy..." Frigg worriedly whispered.

"The  _nerve_  of him, spying on us like that, forcing us to kill... I'm starting to think that returning to the Crystal ain't such a bleak fate after all..." Freya growled, the beast within her stirring once again. Her mother could have sworn that white, vaporous fumes emanated from her daughter's skin like steam before she took a deep breath, making them vanish.

A swirling, unnatural storm started forming above the house. Heavy rain began falling as the tempest grew more and more violent.

"Dammit, kid! You've _really_  pissed him off!" Kain said, staring into the dark vortex.

The Allfather was  _furious_.

"Father Berlioz, please give us more time... she doesn't know what she's say..!" Frigg begged, but he did not listen to her.

Before anyone could react, a blinding pillar of light obliterated the cherry tree, causing a deafening explosion that sent the three Burmecians flying. They hit the walls of the house and then fell to the floor with a loud thud.

"Mother... grandfather... are you alright?!" Freya asked, rising to her feet.

" **You should worry about yourself, rat!** "

Like a lion, the Burmecian god of war and death leaped out of the smoke cloud left behind by the lightning strike, charging straight at Freya spear in hand.

" _Plate armor... how dishonorable..._ " she thought, realizing that she would have to work hard to even  _touch_  him. Her reflexes, honed through decades of fighting, allowed her to dodge his first attack: a direct thrust to the neck. She trapped his spear under her right arm and stepped into hand-to-hand range, her Dragon's Crest shining brightly.

" _Eat this!_ " she shouted as the power of the  _mark_  flowed through her arm and into her fist. The dragon souls seemed to  _love_  the idea of hurting Berlioz, because they went all out, turning her punch into a mystical battering ram.

The warlike deity grunted as the dragoon's knuckles sank into his visor, destroying it. Freya ducked under his blind counterattack and quickly followed up with a fierce elbow to the gut that made the house  _tremble_. She then tried exploiting the opening to disarm him, but Berlioz was having none of it: he bashed his armored head into her skull like a mace and then lifted her off the ground with an uppercut capable of piercing an airship's hull. In a fraction of a second, he grabbed her by the ankle and violently spun, throwing her like a rag doll against the burning cherry tree. Freya screamed in agony: a broken branch had impaled her on impact, pinning her to the trunk. She desperately struggled to free herself, but the blinding pain prevented her from channeling the Crest's power and pleading with the gods for strength was out of the question.

" _Pray to me, rat! Beg for your life!_ " Berlioz howled as he closed in for the kill, ripping his ruined visor off his helmet to reveal two burning coals, shining from the depths of a pitch black abyss.

"Hands off my daughter, you coward!" Frigg screamed, landing on the god's back and frantically plunging a short knife into his neck. Completely unfazed by the attack, Berlioz grabbed her by the collar and smashed her into the ground with so much force that the floor  _cracked_  beneath her. Despite being still dizzy, the seasoned dragoon managed to roll sideways just in time to avoid a killing spear thrust.

"You've got some nerve, hag." the  _Allfather_ snarled, throwing in Frigg's direction a devastating barrage of punches, kicks and stabs. The badly battered Burmecian managed to dodge most of them before getting stunned by a terrible blow to the face. Berlioz used the opening to run her through with his polearm.

" _Hnnrrgghhh..!_ " grunted the dragoon, almost drowning in her own blood, but she was absolutely  _not_  going down without a fight. " _Mother Reis, give me the strength to protect my family!_ " she prayed. She then spat on Berlioz's eyes, distracting him long enough to slip a green-glowing right hook through his guard, tearing off a piece of his helmet with her fist.

" _Nice punch_ , Frigg!" Kain shouted, smashing an iron garden chair against Berlioz's head, knocking him back and forcing him to release his weapon, "You're messing with the wrong family,  _motherfucker!_ " the giant yelled as he charged towards his adversary, trying to take the fight to the ground.

The god roared, outraged by Reis helping mere mortals fend him off. He then kneed Kain in the jaw, lifting him off the ground as if the old dragoon was a feather pillow, and then he kicked him in the belly, sending him hurtling across the garden. Blinded by rage, Berlioz used his tremendous speed to dash  _past him_ while he was still mid-air and smashed him over the head with both fists before he reached the wall, burying him face-first into the ground.

"Kain!" Frigg yelled, her joints no longer able to support her body. She fell to her knees as the Destroyer walked towards her, his killing intent fueling his blazing glare.

"Beg for forgiveness, rat, and I  _might_  spare your soul." the  _Allfather_  snarled, gripping the spear shaft still sticking out of her chest.

The sight of Berlioz toying with her mortally wounded mother made something  _snap_ inside Freya's mind. The  _monster_ , chained deep within her, stirred and thrashed, breaking its bindings and crawling towards the surface like fire rising through a chimney.

" _Die_..." she wheezed, an ethereal haze dancing around her.

Berlioz shifted his attention to the youngest Burmecian. Under his shredded helmet he cracked a crazed grin.

"Would you look at that, woman... looks like our little  _squabble_  has awakened the beast!" he joyfully exclaimed, ripping his spear from Frigg's body in one swift motion. She fell to the ground gasping for air, the hole in her chest magically sealing itself.

" _Die... die... die... die..._ " Freya repeated, her flesh turning into burning white steel. The branch that held her prisoner burst into flames and  _disintegrated_ , releasing her tranced form from the tree.

" _DIE!_ " she roared, launching a savage flurry of energy javelins towards Berlioz.

"Child's play!" he guffawed, twirling his weapon like a whirlwind to deflect the blinding bolts of light. When the dust settled, he realized that she had disappeared without him noticing. " _Above..!_ " he thought, looking skyward just in time to see Freya dive-bombing him with a lance made of raw spiritual power. He blocked the attack with his spear's shaft, the sheer force of the impact fracturing the ground beneath him.

" _That's more like it!_ " he exclaimed, burning eyes glaring at her through their interlocked weapons. He then launched her upwards with a swing of his polearm. Freya didn't even bother landing, effortlessly remaining airborne like a fiery goddess of death. Berlioz smirked at the sight and assumed a battle stance.

"Come, child! Your trial begins  _now!_ " he roared.


	10. The Oath

" _Oh, man..!_ " Zidane winced, sitting up amidst the fallen cherry tree's remains.

"Are you alright, Your Majesty?" Sir Wulfweard inquired, helping him stand up.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm  _fine_..." he grumbled, dusting himself off, "Geez, what's gotten into her to hit me like  _that_?"

"That was one of Father Berlioz's miracles. He won't let anyone interfere with the Trial." the old soldier explained, "You should be grateful that he didn't kill you outright for trying to stop the ritual."

"What are you talking about? I don't get any of this supernatural shit..." the genome said, rubbing his sore lower back, "Tell me one thing: will Freya be alright?"

"Well... that depends entirely on her..." the veteran dragoon replied.

The king looked at Freya. She seemed to be sleeping, but at the same time she was  _levitating_ , wreathed in a strange mystical aura.

"I don't like the sound of that..." Zidane commented, unnerved by the sight of his friend  _floating_ , "Who's this Father Berlioz, by the way? I've heard her mention that name a couple times..."

"Father Berlioz was  _the_  original dragoon and the first sentient being to harness the power of draconic magic." Wulfweard replied, "He is the creator of the Dragon's Crest and our patron deity of war, death and the afterlife."

"That sounds pretty dark..." Zidane said before realizing about something, "Hold on a second, did you just say ' _afterlife_ '?"

"Yes. Father Berlioz became so unfathomably powerful through the  _Crest's_  magic that he transcended mortality, managing to exist in spiritual form without being pulled into the Cycle of Souls. He is also capable of granting that gift to those he deems worthy of it."

The genome stared at the old soldier in utter disbelief.

"You mean it's not a myth what they say about Burmecians not returning to the Crystal after death?" he asked.

"Well... not all souls manage to reach his domain, of course." Wulfweard clarified, "Only those who have obtained a Dragon's Crest through glorious combat are allowed into it."

Zidane recoiled in shock.

"Huh?! So if you are not strong enough to kill one of the most dangerous beasts on Gaia you're barred from the afterlife?!" he gasped, seeing now the disastrous trip to Popos Heights in a completely different light. "That's why Freya was so desperate to get her own  _Crest!_   _Duuuude_...  _I feel like crap now_..."

"Why is that, if I may ask?" the Burmecian inquired, bemused by the king's sudden vulgar commentary.

"Well... I went dragon hunting with her once, mainly because she was planning to do it alone and that got me worried. Those things ended up cornering us and we had to hide inside a freaking  _dragon pit latrine_  for almost a day...  _aaaand_  I  _might_  have gone bananas and called her an  _idiot_  for getting us stuck in that shithole of death." the genome sheepishly answered, scratching the back of his head, "In my defense, I was poisoned at the time, I didn't know anything about this  _and_  she insulted me first."

Sir Wulfweard blinked twice before bursting into laughter.

"Looks like good ol'  _Cherry_ will never change!" he exclaimed.

"What do you mean?" Zidane inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"During her years at the academy, she would constantly get herself  _and others_  into trouble because she wouldn't tell anyone when she was tired, sick, hurt or in pain." the old dragoon reminisced, "She thinks that asking for help, even when it would benefit everyone, will make her look weak. I understand her, though, even if I don't approve of her behavior... being the last heir to a heroic lineage would have turned me into an insane perfectionist too..."

"You look like an insane perfectionist yourself, if you ask me." the genome quipped, "I mean, what with that super-spy shtick of yours and freaking getting the jump on us at your... well..."

"... age?" the Burmecian said, shooting him a sideways glare, "With all due respect, Your Majesty, a _moogle_  could have killed you thrice tonight. You're recklessly exposing yourself  _and_ the kingdom by letting  _Cherry_  be seen  _at all_ ,  _especially_  outside of the castle."

"I know..." the crestfallen genome answered, "I just couldn't handle seeing her like that. We've been through a lot together, you know?"

"I understand, but you can't afford letting your feelings endanger the millions of lives that depend on us." Wulfweard dryly retorted.

Zidane silently stared at Freya for a moment.

"There's gonna be a war, isn't it?" he muttered, feeling a lump in his throat.

"Not if we make things right before Ulrich attacks." the old soldier said, he then looked the king in the eye, "Do you know what's the purpose of the Trial?"

"You tell me, I have no idea what's going on..." the genome replied.

"The right to the Burmecian throne is of divine origin. Lord Puck was the last direct descendant of Lord Athelric, the first Spear of Berlioz. With him out of the picture, the royal lineage is effectively extinguished and nobody can rightfully become king now... _unless_  the Allfather gives someone his blessing." Sir Wulfweard explained.

"Wait... what?!" Zidane blurted out, utterly astonished, "You mean that Puck planned to have Freya become queen of Burmecia to take Ulrich down?!"

"It was supposed to be a last resort, since there is a very good reason for which no one has become king that way after Lord Athelric. The  _Box_  has been stolen multiple times by greedy aspirants to the throne and it has always ended with the royal family retrieving it from their charred corpses. Lord Berlioz is as powerful as he is merciless and only a single man has ever survived his Judgement."

"Ah, but Freya is Burmecia's strongest dragoon! She can do this, can't she?" the king nervously inquired, glancing at her.

"Strength alone is not enough to pass this test, I'm afraid." Wulfweard somberly stated, "It takes a singular, truly  _indomitable_  spirit to best Father Berlioz in a duel, especially in his own realm where the rules of this world do not apply."

Zidane gulped.

"W-what happens if she loses to him? I mean... he didn't even give her a choice!" he stammered.

"I don't know, for the circumstances of this Trial are unique..." the old dragoon answered, "But if we are  _really_  unlucky, he will consume her soul and destroy her body as he has done with every single defeated challenger.

Zidane's heart skipped a beat. He took a deep breath and went silent, closing his eyes to focus on controlling himself.

"Your Majesty..?" Wulfweard said when he noticed the genome's hair starting to  _float_  as if he was underwater. The veteran dragoon  _flinched_  when a pair of blazing rhodonites stared into his soul, making his fur stand on end.

" ** _I warn you,_** ** _old man..._** " the king said, his voice horrifically distorted as if he was possessed by Ifrit himself, " ** _if that happens, I will personally rip you apart, limb... by... limb..._** "

A blinding flash of light cut Zidane's threat short, allowing him to regain control. Both men stared in awe as Freya entered Trance while still unconscious, transforming into a burning, steel armored wraith.

"Shit..." the genome muttered.

* * *

A deafening explosion lit up the skies as Freya and Berlioz clashed above the ruined garden.

" _What are you waiting for, child?! Show me your true strength!_ " the Allfather boomed, exchanging savage blows with the frenzied Burmecian.

Freya roared like a beast before viciously headbutting him twice in quick succession, leaving him wide open for her to fire an energy javelin at his face. The resulting blast sent him plummeting to the ground, but the god recovered just in time to land on his feet with feline precision.

"O _bstinate child..._ " he muttered as a hail of blazing spears rained from above, obliterating the area he was standing on. Freya growled in frustration when the dust settled, revealing that Berlioz had survived the onslaught largely unscathed while she was quickly getting exhausted.

"I warn you, girl: disappointing me is a foolish thing to do!" Berlioz shouted at her. He then plunged his fingers into his breastplate and teared it apart like  _paper_ , revealing a full-torso Dragon's Crest. Just like his head, his entire body seemed to be made of living, shifting shadows.

"This is what a  _real_  dragon technique looks like!" he howled as his  _Crest_  shone brighter than the sun itself, unleashing a myriad of dragon specters that homed in on Freya like rabid hellhounds. Even in her rage-addled state, she knew full well that flying away was futile, for they would relentlessly chase her until her Trance dissipated. She summoned a burning javelin to her hand and stared defiantly into the face of Death, ready to make her last stand.

"You ready, Frigg?" Kain Crescent uttered. He had recovered from Berlioz's devastating attack and was now standing in front of Freya's mother. The woman nodded and started running towards him.

" _Now!_ " the giant shouted as Frigg leaped, landing onto his intertwined hands. " _Mother Reis, give us strength!_ " they shouted in unison as Kain launched the lithe dragoon skyward with all his might.

" _Freya!_ " Frigg yelled, rocketing towards her daughter at incredible speed.

"Mom..?" she uttered, her true self overcoming the  _monster_  upon seeing her mother entering the  _kill zone_.

" _Cherry Blossom! Now!_ " Frigg ordered. Freya blinked twice and nodded, focusing her remaining power into her energy javelin. " _Here goes!_ " she shouted, throwing the charged projectile into the incoming wave of spirits.

Frigg imbued Kain's spear head with raw, unbridled spiritual force and aimed for her daughter's rapidly moving javelin. This time she didn't need to pray, for Reis blessed her spontaneously. She took a deep breath, comforted by the goddess' soothing presence and hurled the blade, divine magic guiding her arm.

" _What the..?_ " Berlioz muttered when both weapons collided, bursting into a gigantic swirl of flower petals. The spectral dragons that he had summoned screamed and writhed in pain, igniting on contact with the Burmecians' spell.

_"Interesting... could she be the one..?"_  the Allfather wondered, smirking.

Completely drained by her final attack, Freya lost stability. Her Trance dissipated, making her plummet to the ground, but Kain was already on his way to catch her.

"Gotcha!" he exclaimed when he managed to grab hold of her, casting a fall-dampening spell immediately after.

"Thanks grandpa..." Freya muttered, hugging him tightly.

"Look at that, kiddo!" Kain said, pointing at Berlioz, who was calmly waiting for them, "Seems like the Trial is over!  _You did it!_ "

"Let's not lower our guards... he doesn't even look tired." Freya somberly stated.

"Hmph... yeah, you're right..." the giant agreed, softly landing on the garden.

"Come, children, I shall pass my final verdict on you." the Allfather ordered, summoning his throne out of thin air and sitting on it.

" _How_ _vain..._ " Freya thought while Kain lowered her to the ground. She then started walking towards Berlioz, giving the ruined cherry tree a disapproving stare as she passed it by.

"Kneel, girl. You may mourn the plants later." the deity scoffed.

The dragoon glared at him for a moment before falling on her knees, killing him a dozen times in her mind. Kain and Frigg approached her and quietly stood at her side.

"Kain, Frigg, well done. You have fulfilled your duties as Freya's champions admirably despite your blasphemous tendencies. As a reward, you will be allowed to properly bid her farewell before I send her back to Gaia."

"Thank you, My Lord." Frigg replied, heaving a sigh of relief.

Berlioz slightly nodded and shifted his attention to the youngest Burmecian.

"I expected more from you, child." the god stated, "You may be remarkably strong by mortal standards, but you have shown little inventive, your technique is good, but you run out of tricks quickly and you can't control your Trance form, reducing you to flailing around like an animal."

Freya gritted her teeth and bit back a caustic retort before she got her family and herself into more trouble.

"However, there are two things that I want to congratulate you for." Berlioz continued, "First of all, you may be a blasphemous, whiny heretic with a pathetically underdeveloped  _Crest_ , but you fought me,  _a god of war_ , with nothing but your own strength. Countless accomplished dragonslayers have challenged me for millennia but only  _you_  have survived, despite refusing mid-battle to use divine or draconic enhancements. If there is one thing I respect, woman, it's  _courage_ , even when it borders on suicidal foolishness."

" _Heheh..._ " Kain chuckled, filled with pride.

"The second thing is that interesting technique of yours, the last one you used. How do you call it?" the god inquired.

"It's called _'Cherry Blossom',_  sir..." she answered.

" _Cherry Blossom_..." Berlioz repeated, "Tell me, how does it work? I've never seen a dragon spell that doesn't require divine assistance to be cast."

Freya hesitated. She looked at her mother, asking for permission to answer. Frigg nodded affirmatively.

"It uses spiritual energy just like any other dragon technique, sir." the dragoon reluctantly explained, "What changes is the catalyst that gives the spell its nature and form."

"And what is that... ' _catalyst_ ' of yours?" the god asked, incapable of hiding his interest.

Freya's ears turned red with embarrassment. She had always  _hated_  how corny the answer to that question sounded.

" _True love_ , sir..." she muttered.

" _Huh..?_ " Berlioz uttered, before bursting into laughter, the ground  _quaking_ due to the sheer loudness of his voice, " _Gwahahahaha!_  That's a good one! I didn't know you had a talent for comedy, child!" he exclaimed.

"I'm  _totally_  serious, sir..." she grumbled. Frigg frowned at Berlioz's rudeness. The Allfather cleared his throat and went back to glaring at Freya.

"Hmph... anyway, you two managed to legitimately counter my Dragon's Crest with it. I went easy on you with that technique, using the exact same amount of souls that your enemy, Ulrich, possesses." the god stated. Freya's ears  _twitched_  at the mention of the usurper's name and Berlioz noticed it. " _Yes_... you want to kill him for what he's done to your friends, don't you?" he said with an unnerving, murderous grin.

"I'm not interested in vengeance, sir. I just want to stop him before he starts a war." the dragoon replied, unsure about how truthful her answer really was.

"Well, here's my offer: I want that rat dead as much as you do, but you lack the strength to take on his  _Crest's_  power on your own. Even if I  _despise_  him, I can't allow my chosen Spear to be a weakling like yourself." Berlioz said before standing up, summoning his weapon back to his hand, "That can be helped, though. You have the potential to become an even greater warrior than  _Athelric_  himself...  _if_  you are willing to do what's necessary to attain such power."

Freya's thought processes went hectic when she considered the prospect of becoming a Spear of Berlioz. For starters, she had never truly liked the god, but now she hated him with a passion: turning into his top enforcer was the exact opposite of what she wanted to do with her life. Besides, defeating Ulrich after gaining Berlioz's favor meant that the Crescent bloodline would become  _royalty_ , which was already a big problem on its own, even before taking into account that she was...

_"Ughhh..."_  she grumbled, thinking about the power void that she would probably leave behind after passing away if she followed through with this plan. However, if she succeeded, she could put an end to Ulrich's machinations once and for all, preventing any further bloodshed until she figured out what to do next.

"Well, what will you do?" Berlioz inquired.

"I..." Freya stammered, her very  _fate_ depending on her answer, "I..."

"My patience has a limit, child..." the god snarled.

"I'll... do it." she sighed.

" _Good..._ " the Allfather said. He then rested his blade upon Freya's shoulder. "Open the Box and follow the Obsidian Star to my...  _bastard son_ 's domain. Travel by airship and don't bother with maps, just keep going in the same direction and  _he_  will find you. I'm sure he will be overjoyed to see you again, for you have already killed him once."

Freya gulped. Of course she had to go visit  _that_  demi-god.

"Train with him until you unlock your full potential and challenge me when he deems you ready. You have three months. If you don't make it to Gizamaluke's hideout within that time limit, I will consider our agreement null and void. You better hide under a rock or something if that happens, because if I see you again, I will  _destroy_  you. Am I clear, girl?"

"Yes, sir." she replied.

"Good... here is a little reward for surviving my test and a reminder of the oath you took." Berlioz said, bestowing upon her the dubious honor of divine knighthood. His weapon started radiating a strange purple light and Freya's  _Crest_ reacted to it with its own glow, "A taste of the power that I'll grant you if you prove yourself worthy of serving me."

Raw magic started flowing through the dragoon's veins, heightening her senses even further. She didn't know why, but she felt truly  _unstoppable_  now.

"If you have any questions, you better ask them now." the Allfather said.

"I have two questions, sir." Freya said, "First: how long does it take to reach Master Gizamaluke's domain by airship from Alexandria?"

"You should be able to reach it in a day and a half at most with one of the newest ships." the god stated.

"Great. Second question: is there any way I can better prepare myself for Master Gizamaluke's training?"

"Yes: get ready to die." Berlioz dryly replied, sending shivers down the Burmecians' spines, "You won't be able to outlive our next encounter should mortal ties still burden you by then."

His brutal answer made Freya's heart  _sink._ A nearby splash of red caught her attention: a batch of her mother's tulips had somehow survived the battle. The sheer irony of it made her smile: like them, she had only delayed the inevitable until the end of spring.

"I understand." she replied, raising her head to look Berlioz in the eye. "May I start tying up loose ends by spending a moment with my family, sir?"

" _Hmph_... permission granted." the Allfather conceded, "Just don't waste too much of my time, mortal."

Having said that, Berlioz vanished into thin air, the skies clearing after his departure. Freya stood up and turned around, offering her loved ones the warmest smile she could muster. They lost no time in embracing her tightly, reveling in the chance of resuming their violently interrupted reunion.

"I hope you still like lemon tea with lots of honey, darling..." Frigg whispered in her daughter's ear.

"Of course I do, mom." Freya answered, resting her muzzle on her mother's shoulder.


	11. Fallout

_"In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer."_

\- Albert Camus

* * *

"Please, be in the lab... please, be in the lab..." Zidane repeated as he pushed a big blue button on a strange terran machine. Despite Gaia's relative lack of refined materials and energy sources, Mikoto had managed to jury-rig a crude transoceanic communications system using parts salvaged from the Invincible. It was light years away from the extremely advanced tech of her homeworld, but it worked well enough.

" _Hello? Zidane, is that you?_ " Mikoto said through the brass speakers that Regent Cid had installed in the recently inaugurated Royal Communications Room.

"Yes! Hi there, lil sis! How's it going?" the king joyfully answered.

" _I'm fine, thanks. Working, as usual. What about you? Has little Tot shown any signs of..?"_

"Nope! He's okay, healthy as his dad!" Zidane blurted out, trying to avoid  _that_ _particular subject_.

_"Wonderful! I'm glad to know that he's a success."_

"Oh, c'mon! You know it gives me the creeps when you start talking about him like he's some sort of science project..." Zidane complained, disturbed by her cold, technical outlook on life.

_"Sorry, brother... I guess my speech patterns still need improvement..."_ she immediately apologized.

"Don't worry, I know you meant no harm. Speaking of harm, I have some very bad news..."

_"Huh? What happened? Are you alright?"_  she worriedly asked him.

"Do you remember when you tried to... uh...  _extend_  Vivi's lifespan by charging his _soul core_  with that weird machine of yours?"

_"Yes... poor thing. Why do you ask?"_

"Well, it seems that someone has managed to crudely replicate the device that gave him life and the implications of it are freaking me out."

_"What..? That's impossible!"_ Mikoto muttered, flabbergasted, "The  _soul core_  was  _bleeding edge_  terran technology when Bran Bal was destroyed! A world like Gaia should not be able to produce one!"

"Well, a Burmecian soldier just brought me one... and it seems to have been mass-produced to boot," the king explained, his voice tinged with fear.

_"... Does it have..?"_

"A crystallized soul, yeah."

Mikoto went silent for a moment.

_"That is completely unacceptable! It violates every single point of the Declaration of Black Mage Rights!"_  she exploded.

"Not to mention that the soul inside this thing is definitely  _not_ where it should be..." Zidane deadpanned. No matter how much progress she had made, his little sister still had trouble getting her priorities in order.

_"I'll be there tomorrow. Hide it, don't let anyone steal it from you. Has that soldier told you what kind of vessel was it powering?"_

"Judging by his sketches, it belonged to some sort of mechanical  _Black Waltz knock-off_. Must be an offshoot of the original project or something."

_"Somebody must be producing them... someone with ties to Kuja and access to a cache of his technology that we didn't know about."_

"That would be logical since these things seem to come from Treno. I knew those guys were bastards, but this time their asshole level is completely off the charts," the king stated.

Mikoto went quiet for a moment.

_"... In your place, I'd find out who is manufacturing them and I'd send a team into their headquarters to gather evidence of their crimes. If you exposed them in front of the entire Mist Continent, they'd have no choice but to shut down their operations,"_ she suggested, making his brother raise his eyebrows in astonishment. He remained in stunned silence for a moment before bursting into laughter.

"I knew you would love the Sir Thomas Clancy collection I've sent you!" he exclaimed, "You've read them all, haven't you?"

_"... maybe,_ " Mikoto sheepishly answered.

"That's my little sister!" Zidane said, clapping his hands in front of the microphone, "Actually I was thinking about doing something along those lines. I'll contact Blank, see if his team is up to the task. Speaking about spies, I don't know what to do with the Burmecian that I've mentioned earlier. He seems to be a decent guy, but he's still a spy and it could all be a ruse to gain intel on what we know... any suggestions?"

_"Hmm. I might be able to help you with that..."_  Mikoto answered.

"Really? Oh, you're gonna use one of those cool mind-reading tricks of yours?" Zidane inquired.

_"Exactly. Let me talk to him tomorrow. I'll determine if it's safe to let him go,"_ his sister asserted.

"Thank you for everything, Miko! I miss you a lot!" the king exclaimed.

_"I miss you too, Zidane. I'll be in Alexandria with my tools tomorrow. Take care of yourself, okay?"_

"I will. Take care of yourself too. Love you!"

_"... Love you too,"_  Mikoto shyly replied before logging out.

* * *

Tired, but determined, Garnet watched over her unconscious friend. She was sitting on a wooden chair with a cup of tea and an oil lamp as her only companions. Next to her, Freya slept peacefully with a smile on her lips. Every once in a while, the queen checked if the Burmecian was still breathing and resumed her post when she was sure that her chest heaved steadily.

Zidane opened the door slowly, wincing at the loud creaking sound it made.

"Could you contact Mikoto?" Garnet whispered.

"Yes. She'll be here tomorrow to take a look at the _core_." the genome answered while he sat alongside his wife, "How is she doing?"

"She seems to be fine, but I'm scared, Zid... what if she never wakes up? I couldn't bear something like that..." Garnet muttered, seeking comfort in her husband's arms.

"She'll be okay, I'm sure of it," Zidane lied, trying to reassure his wife despite sharing her fears himself, "If there is someone capable of surviving _anything_  that Gaia can possibly throw at her, it's Freya."

Garnet sobbed quietly, her face buried in Zidane's chest. He kissed the top of her head and stroked her hair until she calmed down.

"I'm going to see if I can contact uncle Cid. He needs to know about all this," the queen said, wiping her eyes before kissing the genome, "I love you so much, Zid... I don't know how I'd deal with all this without you."

"You'd surely find a way. You're awesome, you know?" he answered, stealing a last kiss before she stood up.

"I don't want to find out if I could... I'll be back in a minute, if something happens, send Adelbert." Garnet said before leaving the guest room.

Zidane remained quiet in his seat, thinking about everything that had happened in less than a week. The alleyway massacre, Puck's death, now this... it was way too much to process. He stared at his lifelong friend for a while, hoping that the bad feeling he had about her future was wrong.  _"At least she seems to be happy..."_  he thought.

* * *

Freya opened her eyes, finding herself once again in the royal guest room. To be sure, she turned around and looked out the window. Effectively, she was back in Alexandria.

_"Was it all a dream..?"_ she wondered, remembering her recent experiences in  _Fólkvangr_. Somehow, she could feel that Frigg and Kain were still with her, smiling.

Loud snoring interrupted her train of thought.

"Who's there?" she squeaked, startled by the sound. Sitting on his chair, Zidane slept with his mouth wide open and his head comically tilted back. Garnet was sitting next to him, quietly sleeping on his shoulder.  _"How does she manage to sleep with all that noise..?"_ the Burmecian thought, trying not to laugh.

"Huh..?" the queen mumbled, awakened by the dragoon's voice. " _Freya..?_ " she muttered before grabbing Zidane's shoulder and gently shaking him, "Zid, look! Freya is awake!"

" _Hngh... mmh..?_ " the genome mumbled, blinking dumbly for a moment before springing back to life like a jack-in-the-box. " _Well, I'll be damned!_  Look who's back with us!" he exclaimed, excitedly squeezing Garnet's hand.

"Hello, guys..." Freya said with a big smile. Garnet lost no time in hugging her tightly, catching the Burmecian off-guard.

"We were so scared! I'm so happy to see you awake!" she exclaimed. It took Freya a couple of seconds and a bewildered glance at Zidane to overcome her respect for the queen's authority and hug her back.

"Thank you... I wasn't going to leave you alone with all this," the dragoon said.

"The ultimate badass on Gaia is challenged to a deathmatch by a freaking  _god of war_  and she kicks his ass because she doesn't want to abandon her friends. Holy shit, woman, that's both cute  _and_ corny as hell!" the king quipped, making Freya and Garnet chuckle.

"You're one to talk about corny motivations..." the Burmecian shot back with a smug smirk.

" _Touché,_ " Zidane answered, clutching his heart as if it had been pierced by a sword, "Hey, Rusty! Freya's awake!" he shouted, prompting Garnet to shush him.

Steiner immediately barged into the room crying like a big, dumb child.

"Lady Freya! I thought... I thought you were going to...  _Bwaaaaah!_ " he sobbed, dramatically kneeling beside her bed.

"Oh... hello, Adelbert..." the dragoon muttered, awkwardly patting his helmet in a misguided attempt to calm him down.

"Rusty, come on! If you keep getting snot all over her she'll get tetanus or something..!" Zidane exclaimed, pulling the musclebound knight back, "Hey Freya! Please tell me that you said a cool one-liner when you kicked that motherfucker into space!"

"Well... about that..." the Burmecian stammered, "I didn't actually _beat_  him..."

Everyone went silent for a moment.

"What do you mean..?" Garnet asked, already knowing that she wouldn't like the answer.

"Let's just say that Berlioz let me off the hook for now..." Freya replied, much to everyone's confusion.

"But  _Wulfweird_ said that you'd only wake up if you won the fight!" Zidane exclaimed.

"It turns out that I've impressed Berlioz enough for him to temporarily spare my life, but he will... well,  _kill me_  if I don't begin my  _Spear_ training soon," the Burmecian explained.

"Then we'll kick his ass first!" Zidane furiously spat, making everyone turn their heads in his direction, "I don't know about you, guys, but I've had enough of all this Berlioz business and I'm  _not_  gonna stand idly by while this entitled asshole threatens her like that!"

"Zidane..." Freya said, smiling at the rabid genome, "I appreciate your concern, but you need not worry about me, for I've agreed to those terms of my own accord..."

"What?!" Garnet squeaked, "Why would you do something like that?!"

"Because if I managed to become the new Spear of Berlioz, we could prevent the war from happening altogether!" the Burmecian replied.

"Woman, listen to yourself! You're selling your soul to a guy that's threatening to kill you if you disobey him! And without guarantees of any kind, to top it off!" Zidane exclaimed on the verge of yelling.

"Zidane, think of all the lives we will save if this works! We could defeat Ulrich, disband his army and restore peace to the continent! Think of all the cherry tree hills that we could build together!" Freya answered, raising her own volume too.

"The risk is  _not_  worth it!" The king  _exploded_ , making his friend shrink in her place, "What if Berlioz forces you to fight us in the name of who knows what whim of his?! Have you considered the possibility of all this mess being  ** _HIS_**  idea? What if  _he's_  the mastermind behind Ulrich's crimes and just sent you the box to replace him with a stronger queen?! Motherfucker has been scheming for  _hundreds of years_  and, as far as I know, he just let his last  _Spear_  be horribly murdered without even moving a finger to save him!"

"Zid, calm down please! You're overreacting!" Garnet hissed.

"I'm not overreacting, Dag! We already were knee-deep in shit before Freya invited the fucking _god of murder_ to the party!" the genome shot back, blinking away tears. He then shifted his attention to the Burmecian once again, "Why Freya? Why do you need to throw your life away like this when you could simply let us help you?"

"Zidane! Shut up this instant!" the queen blew up at him, scaring the wits out of everyone in the room, "You're being  _incredibly_  unfair to her! What if she's being threatened into becoming his servant?! Have you even considered the possibility of Berlioz forcing her to  _pretend_  that she's okay with this?!

"No, Garnet... he's right..." Freya stammered, her lower lip trembling so much that she had trouble talking, " _I'm sorry..._ "

Neither Garnet or Steiner had ever heard it, but Zidane knew full well that whenever she spoke with that broken voice, it was because she had finally hit rock bottom.

"Oh,  _fuck_..." the genome muttered, burying his face in his hands, "I'm sorry, Freya... I'm so sorry... I really went too far this time."

"No... you're right, monkey-tail..." the Burmecian croaked, "I should have declined his offer, even if he took my life for doing so... I didn't think he could use me to hurt you..." she muttered, hiding her shame behind her silver bangs.

"That's not going to happen, Freya. Not even in a million years." Garnet said, lovingly holding her, "We'll find a way to make things right."

"Can you possibly forgive me for all I've done..?" the Burmecian stammered while the queen stroked her hair.

"There's nothing to forgive, Lady Freya." Steiner intervened, "You have relinquished your own soul to protect us all. Besides, we still don't know if what you did was a mistake. Maybe something good can come out of this."

Zidane blankly stared at the Pluto knight, feeling like the biggest jerk ever.

"Maybe you're right, Steiner..." the genome conceded, before shifting his attention back to the burmecian, "Freya... can you forgive me for being a complete asshole? I didn't mean what I said, I was just..."

"... worried, I know..." the dragoon muttered, completing his sentence. She left Garnet's embrace and sat upright, offering her old friend an apologetic smile.

"... dragon pals?" she asked.

Zidane chuckled and smiled back.

"Yeah. Dragon pals."


End file.
